


The King And I Fanfiction (isn't that an original title)

by xaidualcx



Category: Musicals - Fandom, Old Hollywood, The King And I - Fandom
Genre: Anna - Freeform, Broadway, F/M, Films, Fluff I guess, Hollywood, King - Freeform, Mongkut lives isn't that great, Musicals, The King and I, movies - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:04:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaidualcx/pseuds/xaidualcx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As you've probably guessed this is a The King And I fanfiction and I'm not really sure what to put in here. I suggest if you haven't seen the film or the show yet, you go watch it and /then/ read this because you might not understand the story or you could (very definitely) be spoiled and nobody wants that. Hopefully the story is better than the summary which isn't even a real summary because I didn't really explain anything oh well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. KING MONGKUT

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously don't own anything this is just fanfiction all I own is a The King And I special edition dvd leave me alone

King Mongkut couldn't fall asleep. He simply couldn't. There he was, the king of Siam, laying awake at night thinking of—the thought made him want to whip himself—a woman? A woman! He couldn't believe it. He felt like a silly european. Thinking about women! Not even women, generally speaking, but one woman in particular and he just couldn't bare the fact that he could simply not get her out of his mind. He was king, after all. He had so much more to think about than a woman. Not to mention it wasn't even one of his women, it was a european woman. A christian, even. The thought made him shudder. He didn't even know exactly what he was thinking as he thought of her, he just saw her, there, right in front of him, that night at the dinner they had organized for the british. That long, funny sized gown that still somehow looked beautiful on her. Uncustomary, he had thought when he first laid eyes on it, for it showed her shoulders and her cleavage, like none of the other dresses she had ever worn in his presence had. He was sure he would have remembered if she had worn anything like that before. Funny customs they have, the english. Covering every part of the body except for that specific one somehow made it even more revealing than the clothing his wives usually wore. Of course that didn't mean he did not approve of it. He just couldn't bare to see other men looking at her. No, not exposed as she was. And when he caught her dancing with that Sir Edward Ramsay, or what she called him, just 'Edward'. He couldn't stand it. Not the way he looked at her nor the way she said his name, almost half whispering. He almost felt jealous. She had never said his name like that. She had never said his name at all. She had only ever called him 'Your Majesty' and somehow he felt like that just wouldn't do anymore. But then he had to tell himself to stop it because of course it would do, he was king, he was superior, she was his servant, his slave even. That's what she was. And still. And still when he saw them dancing he couldn't handle it. "Dancing after dinner!" he had nearly yelled, and immediately felt like he should have said it differently. But, no, no he shouldn't have. He was king. He gave the orders around here. He sighed. He had to remind himself a lot lately. Yet, that whole night, even at the dinner, he felt he was longing for her. For her to just be near him. Close. But then again he couldn't afford to get distracted like that at such an important meeting, especially if it was a woman distracting him. A christian. Thank Buddha the english had a wonderful impression of him-not that he ever doubted they would-and he was very proud of himself for that. He wasn't pleased with Tuptim, though. Running away from palace et cetera! There he was, eating leftovers after the dinner and his thoughts practically eating him, when Schoolteacher walked by. She looked beautiful. He could almost- no. No. She was just an unworthy woman and there was nothing beautiful about her at all. He had to remind himself that a lot, too. He had asked her to stay with him for some stupid reason and they had talked about the dinner and how wonderful he'd been with the guests and he almost let himself compliment her, too, but he bit his lip just in time. What kind of king was he, going around almost-complimenting european women? And yet he felt the urge to thank her somehow, in any way, because as much as he wished she hadn't and he was the only one that deserved any credit, she had helped him more than anyone else could have. And he just needed to show her that he really did appreciate it and that he wasn't a barbarian, he really wasn't. And before he knew it he had taken off his ring, his family ring, one of the most valuable things he had and stared at it for a second, thinking, and then finally handed it over to her, telling her it was a present. He couldn't get the look she gave him out of his head. She stared at him in awe, like she couldn't believe such a cold man could even think of rewarding a european, christian, woman with something that used to belong to him. He could hardly believe himself, for that matter. He didn't want her looking at him like that for too long, he was afraid he might feel something. Too much. He couldn't afford that. She took the ring in her small hands. “Your majesty, I don't know what to say—” He didn't want her to start talking. He didn't want her to thank him or to say anything, he just wanted her to put that ring on and forget about the whole thing like it wasn't all that important to either of them. And as he was always reminded as an infant, when one does not know what to say it is a time to be silent. Schoolteacher should know this. "Put it on, put it on, put it on." he spurred her. She put it on at once and then looked at him again, those eyes he had been trying to avoid for so long. He was still trying.  
King Mongkut turned to the other side of his bed and tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. Enough with the silliness. Mrs. Anna was only supposed to be the schoolteacher and nothing more. He reminded himself that she was his servant. That she was lowlier than him. That he was superior to her in any and every way possible. For a moment, his mind was blank, and he thought he might actually fall asleep at least for a while.  
But then there she was again. It was starting to make him terribly angry. Who did that woman think she was? From the first moment she walked into that palace, demanding to talk to him like that, to the last moment he had seen her, not once had she acted like she was inferior. And now she was even taking the right to keep him from falling asleep. He remembered when he first told her the rule, that nobody's head in the kingdom shall ever be higher than his. And she reluctantly adjusted to that but never, not once, had she held her head lower than his. It was always equal. He furrowed his brows. What a difficult woman she was. And yet when he thought of that dance they shared after they discussed Tuptim and women and "love" and first dances et cetera, he couldn't help but smile and want to whip himself real hard for how he was feeling. They had been so close. And yet, he had reckoned, something was not right. It was just not how the english were dancing when he saw them, he was sure of it. But when he told Schoolteacher she insisted on the contrary. Until he pointed out the hands. They were holding hands. That was not how it was supposed to be. He felt himself smile as he remembered how Mrs. Anna immediately moved away from him, putting her hands behind her back, almost as if she were embarrassed. "No, as a matter of fact." she had said, almost to herself. And he had looked at her and suddenly felt like he knew what he was supposed to do but he wasn't sure he should do it. This had felt really silly to him but he also felt... attracted to that woman? Was that the word? No, no, he couldn't possibly have been attracted to her. He decided to push the thought aside and slowly stretched his hand out, toward her waist, waiting for her to turn and run away, but, amazed as he was to see it, she didn't. He moved closer, wanting more. Closer. Closer. More. He thought he was very probably going to regret this but he didn't care, not at that moment. He softly put his hand on her waist. It was so small he almost felt like it would break if he put more strength in his hand and he felt relief when it didn't. His heart was thumping. More. Closer. He moved in closer and Mrs. Anna just stared at him right in the eyes and he almost did something very unscientific. He almost kissed her. He had hardly ever kissed any of his wives, why would he kiss this unworthy christian? It made no sense. "Like this?" he said, holding her as close as possible. "Yes." Mrs. Anna half-whispered, and he could feel her breath on his neck and she was staring right into his eyes, just like she did when she said Edward's name when they were dancing, and Mongkut finally felt accomplished. And then they had started dancing again. He wished they could have danced for more, the entire night if possible, but the Kralahome had stormed inside saying that they had found Tuptim and that was where the dancing stopped.  
Mongkut felt a rush of anger when he thought of that young girl. Running away from palace because she was 'unhappy'. Nonsense! She was in house of King, he thought, how could she not be happy?! And he painfully remembered the fear in Mrs. Anna's voice when she asked what he was going to do to the girl and how she protested and decided to stay and watch him whip her and how he was just about to do it when he simply dropped the whip and ran away like a child. He felt so ashamed. He just couldn't bring himself to do it. Not in front of her. Not with her watching and thinking he was a barbarian and he had no heart and all those horrible things she had said to him. He felt so weak. He wasn't weak. He was a strong king, he knew that. He had to be. It was her who made him weak. She made him terribly weak. And all the same he was still yearning for more. Closer. He had to stop himself. Enough thinking about unworthy Schoolteacher for one night, he thought. But of course he didn't stop.


	2. ANNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one's Anna's P.O.V. anddd well As you should know by bow I'm very bad at summaries but I hope this chapter is better than the first one.

Anna couldn't fall asleep. She was so angry and confused. She had no idea of what had just happened or why. She was ready to cry and scream in terror as the king whipped poor Tuptim but the moment never came. He simply ran away. Of course she was glad he hadn't done the poor girl any harm, but what had stopped him from doing so? She furrowed her brows. Had it been her? Had she gone too far calling him a heartless barbarian? After all they had just danced together and he had just given her his ring as a gift and that was quite impressive for a man like him. She had been so moved when he had handed her that ring so nonchalantly, as if it were a given, she could hardly believe it. And when they were dancing. Oh, just thinking of it made her heart flutter. The kind of fluttering she hadn't felt since her beloved Tom had died. Tom. Suddenly she felt guilty for feeling the way she did, which she wasn't sure of herself. But all she had to do was think of how the King had reached for her, his hand stretched out, all the way to her waist. As soon as he had touched her she had felt so vulnerable and yet she was yearning for closeness. More. He might as well have killed her. Goodness gracious, they were so close. "Like so?" he had said, as he was holding her, and he was so close to her she should have almost felt frightened, but she didn't, not at all. It still wasn't close enough to her. She wanted to just stand there, in his arms, for as long as they both could. But she did manage to let out a small "Yes." and that was when they had started dancing, her heart beating faster than it ever had in years. She didn't remember she could feel like that. But then again, she slightly shook her head, he was such a spoiled man. And when she tried to explain monogamy to him! Might as well try to teach an elephant how to climb a tree. That proverb he had mentioned to her, about women being like blossoms and men being like bees perplexed her so. They did expect women to be faithful but if, like he said, women were like blossoms and men were like bees, and men would fly from blossom to blossom as often as they wanted to, wouldn't that mean more bees would fly on the same blossom then? So women would still practically get flown on by more than one man? She stopped herself. What was she thinking about?! Siamese customs. Like they'd ever made any sense to her in the first place. And still she wanted the king to understand love and to feel love and to know that it was real and it did exist. But then again why did she care so much? She stuck her head into her pillow. What was happening to her? She thought of Lady Thiang and all of his other wives, and poor, dear Tuptim who had almost gotten whipped to death and had lost her lover to a river on the same night. She thought of his Majesty's children, who she had learned to love so dearly. But he was just impossible. He would not change his mind no matter what, he was more stubborn than his children should have been. She couldn't bare the thought of what might have happened to Tuptim if she hadn't been there to stop him from whipping the poor thing. Why, not that she had done anything to stop him, really. Or maybe she did too much. She let herself shrug. And suddenly she thought of every time she fought with him. Oh, it had happened so many times. Yes, several. He would raise his voice and it would become so loud, being whipped would have hurt her less. As much as she tried not to be, she was afraid of him sometimes. Not very often, that was true, and not for too long, either. And she knew he wasn't bad. But still, sometimes, he frightened her. And other times he amused her, like with the whole letter-to-President-Lincoln thing, where he proposed to send several male elephants to American forests, let them reproduce and then be tamed so Mr. Lincoln could use them in his war. "Only male elephants, Your Majesty?" Anna had asked, almost laughing but keeping it together—he was the king after all. But he had said nothing, he simply told her to not interrupt him. She felt like that man was the strangest mixture of a child and a grown man she had ever encountered. He would really get so childish and eager to learn more and more and prove he was right and get into arguments and not stop talking until he won them, and then all of a sudden he was this extremely serious man, who knew exactly what was right and what he wanted and what he needed and what was important and what to do in order to get it. Anna didn't know which side of him she was more attracted to. Perhaps both. No. She buried her head between her pillows again, trying to push the thought down right next to that night's supper. No, no. Neither. That was most likely. Yet all the same, she had found herself thinking of him a lot lately. The silliest things, like one specific look he gave her on one specific evening, or one specific sentence he had said to her. And she would just lay there and think about it for hours. What he really meant. What he thought when he looked at her. Why he looked at her, even. Maybe he was just as confused as she was. Goodness, she hoped he wasn't. She hoped he had no feelings for her at all, so she could just put her own feelings aside and things wouldn't have to get complicated. He did have his harem after all, all of his wives and all of these different customs they had to separate them. She turned and thought of the Kralahome, stating how she had broken the king and how he wished she had never come to Siam in the first place. Well, so did she. Oh, so did she. She wasn't sure if giving him the ring and telling him to give it back to the King had been the right thing to do, though. She didn't want him to lose his temper any more than he already had. Her thoughts shifted back to the ring. Why would he give something of so much value away, to her? He could have simply thanked her.  
That was somehow sweet, but... Enough. He was a terrible human being. Why, he was sometimes, but then all of a sudden, just like Lady Thiang had told her, he would do or say something extremely unexpected and wonderful, and that something would make her smile for hours if she just thought of it.  
But right now, she slightly shook her head, she knew—she had decided she was through with the nonsense. She was going to leave Siam as soon as she could, just like she should have done a long time ago.


	3. ANNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anna is about to leave when Lady Thiang stops her. And I'm not getting better with chapter summaries at all.

Months had passed and Anna hadn't seen or heard of the King once. It hadn't been that many months, but enough for her to question what she was still doing there. There was a boat coming to Bangkok that day and Louis and her were going to take it and finally go back home. She did feel both guilty and sad about leaving all those children who adored her and who she adored right back but the situation had gotten ridiculous. She couldn't stay. Not anymore. In fact, she was ready to leave when Lady Thiang stormed into the hall. How nice of her, Anna thought, to come and say goodbye to her and Louis. She really did love her dearly, she thought of her as one of the only good friends she had made in Siam. But she looked very worried, and immediately told her she hadn't only come to say goodbye, but also to ask her to please go see the King. Well, that was funny. After months of ignoring her and disappearing, he'd decided to send one of his millions of wives looking for her right when she was leaving. There he was again, the spoiled, careless man-child she wished she'd never met. When Anna told her that there was absolutely no way she would go see him at that moment, partly because Louis and her had a boat to catch, Lady Thiang gave her a look, her eyes shimmering like she may have been crying. “He is dying, Mrs. Anna,” she said. Dying? How was he possibly dying? Lady Thiang swallowed hard and exhaled. 

She started explaining how he hadn’t eaten in so much time, and how he somehow simply refused to go on, but Anna’s mind railed off. He couldn’t die. This couldn’t be happening. Lady Thiang softly put her hand on Anna’s arm. “King has commanded that I bring this to you.” She said as she handed Anna a piece of paper, which must’ve been a letter. She already felt a sinking feeling only taking it in her hands. Chulalongkorn stepped forward, “Please,” he said, his voice more childlike than usual, “may I hear what my father has said, Mrs. Anna?”  
Anna tried to smile at him and nodded as she unfolded the letter. She swallowed and took a deep, shaky breath. “As I am lying here I think perhaps I die.” She stopped. Die? So it really was true. Her heart started to ache. “This heart, which you say I have not got,” she paused. No, no, please don't think that, she thought, tears welling up in her eyes, “is matter of concern. It occurs to me that there shall be nothing wrong, that men shall die. For all that matters about man is that he shall have tried his utmost best. In looking back, I discover that you think much on those people who require that you live up to best of self. You have spoken truth to me always, and for that I have often lost my temper on you.” Her voice got shakier and shakier word after word. “But now I do not wish to die without saying this gratitude and large respect et cetera, et cetera. I think it very strange that a woman shall have been my most earnest help of all. But Mrs. Anna, you must remember you have been a very difficult woman, and much more difficult than generality.” She had barely said the last word when her voice cracked. Lady Thiang looked at her. “We must hurry back now. You won’t come?” Anna let out a sigh, trembling. “Yes, I must see him.”


	4. ANNA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This starts off with Anna taking Chulalongkorn's proclamations. Yes, my chapter summaries keep getting better and better. Brilliant.

Anna frantically scribbled down prince—well, King—Chulalongkorn's proclamations while occasionally taking a glance at his father, who she found examining her every time she turned to him. She kept writing, and writing. No more kowtowing, she heard and wrote down. That was good. She felt as though she might change how some things worked around there at least a little bit, and no more kowtowing was a wonderful start. She couldn't stop thinking of what Louis had said when they were rushing through the halls. His words were echoing in her head. “Now that the King is dying, does that make you friends again?”   
She wished she hadn't been so full of pride for the last few months. She thought of how Louis had noticed how much she actually liked the King. She thought of when Louis said the King had always frightened him. How she wished he had only known him better. How she wished so many things. She thought of dear Princess Ying Yaowalak's sweet message and of how glad the King's children looked when she decided to stay.   
As she wrote, the King's hand started to slowly slide off his chest, where it had been resting. As Anna turned to check on him once more, absentmindedly, she noticed with fright that he really was, most likely, dying and not sure what to do she put the pen and paper aside, abruptly, and just stared at him more terrified than she had been in a long while. Almost everyone else immediately joined in, except for Chulalongkorn, who kept making proclamations until he noticed the fuss around his father and ran toward his bed. Some more of Mongkut's children started to weep and so did some of his wives. Everything was happening so quickly. The first one to tear up had been Lady Thiang. But not Anna, no. She did not shed a tear and she had no idea why, for she knew she felt just as bad as all the others, if not worse. She had known how ill he'd been but even though Lady Thiang had warned her, until that moment it had felt unreal to her that he would die. She felt so responsible for him for some silly reason. She... she still had so many things to tell him. To teach him. To show him. No, no, he couldn't die. Not yet. But he was. She knew he was. She looked at him. That was when it slowly throned upon her. She did love him. She did, with all of her soul and there he was, joining Tom. Maybe she just wasn't meant to have everlasting love stories. Just like some people weren't meant to be writers and some people weren't meant to be teachers and some people weren't meant to be Kings. She carefully took his hand into hers. It was still warm. She caressed it, lightly, and finally pressed it against her lips, giving it a small kiss. Goodbye, she thought. Once more. And that was when she started to cry.   
She could feel all of his wives staring at her. She wondered what they were thinking of her at that moment. Did they find her pathetic? Or did they understand? She felt someone's hand softly patting her shoulder, and when she turned to see whose hand it was she found Lady Thiang looking down at her, crying as well as she was. Anna immediately got up to hug her. Poor Lady Thiang. Married to a man like him, knowing he wasn't in love with her. And had he been, there were still so many other wives he had. Maybe she didn't care for love either, though. If every person in Siam thought love was just a bit of European silliness, Lady Thiang's loveless marriage shouldn't have been that big a deal to her. But then she thought of Tuptim and Lun Tha, and how in love they were, how he would rather get himself killed than live without seeing her again. Even though the two of them were technically from Burma and not from Siam, there was no doubt some people there did believe in love. They had to. And, looking back at Lady Thiang, Anna knew she was certainly one of them. As they parted, Lady Thiang gave her a small, understanding smile, wiping away a few tears from Anna's face. Anna felt as though at least she had found one friend, in Lady Thiang. And that look. Maybe she knew Anna had loved him. Some of the King's wives slowly and quietly started to leave the room, taking their children with them, still weeping. More and more started to leave, looking down sadly. They did love their king, Anna thought. Maybe it wasn't the kind of love she had felt for Tom, but it was the kind that made them respect him, obey him and feel at least a tiny bit of sympathy toward him. It was the kind that made them feel sorry he had left them. Lady Thiang put her hand on Chulalongkorn's head, to caress him, and he got up to follow her outside, crying into her shoulder, shedding more tears than any of his siblings were shedding. Anna hugged the both of them before they left. She felt so sorry. She felt so guilty. She couldn't stop thinking that she was the one who had killed him. Because he didn't suffer from any illness nor had he been physically hurt or anything like that. It was just as though he had refused to go on living. And his heart adapted to that. She just wished she hadn't been so hard on him during those last days of his life. Lady Thiang looked at her once again, when she was just about to walk out, a look Anna had interpreted as an ‘Aren't you coming?’ look. She gave her a tiny smile, slightly shaking her head. “I think I'm going to stay here for just a little while longer.” Lady Thiang nodded that she understood, smiled back, though she was still shedding tears, and quietly walked out with her son. Louis followed them outside. Silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the last chapter [wipes tear] I honestly think it's the best one I wrote. Not saying that it's any good, but… well alright I hope you like it! Please do review, no matter if you have something nice to say or not! Thank you for reading.

Anna could only hear herself sobbing. Her sobs got heavier and louder and at some point she found herself crouching next to him, crying into his chest. He couldn't just leave like that. Not her nor his wives, let alone his children. They all needed him in some peculiar way. And she was crying. Dear Lord, was she crying. His body was still warm. She didn't move her head from his chest for what seemed like ages to her, but it had only been a few minutes.   
All was quiet. She was certain her ugly sobs could be heard by everyone in the palace. But she just stayed there, crying, her head on his chest, desperately waiting for a heartbeat or a movement or something that proved he was still alive, but nothing came. She wished she had never come to Siam, she cursed herself and the boat that took her there. She cursed the Kralahome and Edward and even Tuptim and Lun Tha, for God's sake. She took a shaky breath to calm down a little. This wasn't their fault. None of them were responsible for his death, and she wasn't either. Not completely, anyhow.  
Alright, that was it, she thought. She had to go. She needed a long rest. She needed to stop thinking. Though she knew there was no chance she would, she slowly got up, caressed his cheek as softly as possible and made her way to the door, quiet tears streaming on her face. She was just about to walk out when she heard a noise. Or at least she thought she had. Something like... a groan? No. It must've been her imagination. But still something made her turn around, as quickly as she could, even though she couldn't help feeling a bit silly. Yet she couldn't believe her eyes when she saw King Mongkut leaning on his elbow, looking at her. Was she hallucinating? “...Your... Your Majesty?” She ran toward him, sobbing again, even louder than before, and kneeled next to him to hold his hand. He looked just as beaten up as he had before, if not even worse, but he was alive, she was quite certain of that. For the first time to her, he really looked weak. He slowly stretched his right arm towards her, and caressed her cheek, wiping her tears away. “I shall decide—” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “I shall decide when it is time for crying.” Anna felt like her heart had gone up to her neck. He was alive. He was alive. She did something very impulsive, something she knew she would regret afterwards, but she didn't care. Not now. Before she could even realize what she was doing she found herself embracing him, her arms wrapped around him, her fingers resting on his shoulders. She felt the King stiffen, but she didn't care, he was alive, and she was alive, and she loved him. She just stayed there, crying quietly for a while, until she felt the King's fingers on her back, rubbing it softly, and that was when she parted from him. What was she doing? They stared each other right in the eyes. Now she felt like she was the one who was dying. He smiled slyly. “Schoolteacher is not behaving very scientifically today.” He said, matter-of-factly. She slowly shook her head, smiling. “Neither is His Majesty.” She said, and then she really did it. She kissed him. She could tell he didn't expect it because he stiffened again, but in all honesty, she didn't expect him to die and come back to life on the same evening either, so, really, things were even between them. Suddenly she felt his left hand rise up to her cheek and his right hand on her hip, as he kissed her back, which she didn't think would be the case at all. She placed her hands on the back of his head, and they were kissing, and she couldn't believe it, and she felt as though all these years without Tom she had been asleep and now someone finally woke her up. As they parted, she let out a deep sigh without really realizing. He looked at her, and he could clearly tell how embarrassed she was. She quickly put her hands behind her back. “Well...” she heard herself speak, without really knowing what she was going say next. “That was... I— I'm sorry, your Majesty, I didn't— why, you— you were dead... and now you aren't... and I simply just... I don't know, I, I suppose I...” she stuttered and wanted to strike herself across the face. She was embarrassing herself like she never had before. Goodness gracious, what had she done? Not only was that man the King of Siam, he also had hundreds of wives and children and of course she let herself kiss him because she was silly and immature and impulsive and... Lord have mercy, she wished she hadn't done it. She wished she was on that boat to England instead of getting herself into trouble in Siam. She looked up at him to find his piercing eyes staring right at her. “Do europeans do such things naturally?” He asked, leaning back a little. A small smile crept upon Anna's lips. “Yes, your Majesty. Most of them do.”  
“And what makes them do so?” he said, his voice a bit steadier than before.  
“Well... there really is no other way to put it... they usually do it because they're in love.” She said, and she knew very well what she was going to get as an answer. The King let himself laugh, in spite of his bad condition. Anna looked down, uncomfortable. He looked at her and turned serious again. “Again with this love! I do not understand it.” he said, like it really bothered him very much. Anna smiled. “Well, if his Majesty would like me to, I suppose I could try to explain.” she said, and moved in closer to him. “Love,” she said, “is when you don't want someone to go away.”   
The King looked at her, his brows furrowed. She went on. “It's when you want them to stay near you at all times. You don’t want them to leave you. And you would never leave them.” she said. The King's expression was hard to read. He was confused, alright. He looked down for a second, thinking. “So—” his voice cracked again. He cleared his throat. “So, when I ask schoolteacher to stay in palace for sake of growing son and children, does that mean I love schoolteacher?”   
Anna sighed. “Well, your majesty, what I was saying was more of a...— Well, in a way, I suppose I meant...” she was desperately trying to find the right words. Love was such a simple concept, yet so hard to explain to someone who had never really heard of it before. “Well, your Majesty... suppose I asked you how you... felt...” she swallowed. “when I... well, we...” she had no clue how to put it but The King's eyes widened, which she took as a sign that he had understood already. “Schoolteacher is insane! I will not discuss my... feelings,” he grimaced, “and most importantly I won't discuss them with a woman!” Anna could feel herself blush with anger. “Your Majesty, there is nothing wrong with having feelings! You have feelings as well as your people do and as well as I do and you know it!” she knew she was raising her voice too much. She tried to quiet down at least bit. “And, your Majesty, you know as well as I do that women are just as good as men, and you can deny it as much as you like but it will always be the truth and you cannot change the truth only because you are afraid of it!” King Mongkut raised his eyebrows and she knew he was angry, but she didn't care much, so was she. “Enough!” He screamed, and there he was again, King Mongkut the almighty. It was as though he'd never been dying at all. “I am King! King is not afraid of anything! And King shall decide what is true and what is false! Me!” Anna looked at him, fighting the urge to turn just as violent as him and to strike him across the face. How could she even have thought she loved him?! And how could the same King Mongkut she was facing have written that tender letter that almost made her cry earlier? There was no way on earth she could ever feel anything but anger toward that man. He was impossible.   
Had she been one of his wives she would have most likely gotten up and run away, covering her face, ashamed of having spoken up to the King. But she wasn't one of his wives. And she wasn't his servant, either. She got up. “No, your Majesty, you see, that is where you're wrong! The truth will forever be the truth no matter what you decide!” She gave him a quick glance and instantly knew he was about to start screaming again, so she didn't give him the time to even just open his mouth. She started pacing the floor, nervously. “You only have the power to make your people believe in something, but even then your power is still limited because there will always be people who will stand up for their own beliefs!”  
She paused to think for just a mere second but the King instantly took over the conversation.  
“Beliefs et cetera, et cetera, et cetera! Beliefs are different from truth!” He gesticulated, still in his bed, looking weak but sounding strong and determined. Both their voices were so loud, Anna couldn't believe any of the King's wives or children hadn't heard them yet. She supposed they may have gone praying. She cleared her throat. “Well then, pardon me for asking, but how is his Majesty to know what is true and what is only belief?”   
She stared at him. Silence. Anna could feel herself smile slightly. Checkmate.   
The King looked as if he was just about to say something, but then thought he'd better not. He looked down, his brows furrowed, thinking. He looked as though he had already had this kind of a conversation before, as if he had already asked himself whatever it was he was asking himself right now, and hadn't found a good answer. It was true. He didn't know. He didn't know why he thought certain things were right and others were wrong. It just had somehow come to him as he was growing. Some things simply were and others were not. There wasn't a reason, really, and the thing drove him mad. He heaved a small sigh, and, under his breath, without looking up at her, he said, “I do not know.”   
Anna looked at him, puzzled. Never had she thought a man like him could have admitted that he truly didn't know something. And, needless to say, he looked so very embarrassed about it. Without really realizing, she sat back next to him and took his hand in hers, maybe to reassure him. He probably hadn't realized either, because she was sure that if he had he would have scolded her or something of the kind. But now he was looking at her, only at her, straight in her eyes, as if he didn't feel all that embarrassed of not knowing anymore. Not in front of her. “Your Majesty,” she said, softly; “there is nothing wrong with not knowing. Nobody truly knows everything, your Majesty, not even the greatest of Kings. For goodness' sake, Abraham Lincoln doesn't know either. Not that Abraham Lincoln is any kind of a match to you, your Majesty,” she smiled a little, “but he… he doesn't know either.”  
She stopped to think of what else she could say, but nothing worth saying really came to her mind. He didn't stop looking at her, though, and neither did she stop looking at him. They just stared at each other, quietly, for a while. There it was again, that feeling. Right in the gut. She wanted him to understand. She wanted him to love her. Silly. Extremely silly of her to even think that, but she did. She looked away from him. “What I do know, your Majesty...” she started to talk without truly knowing what she was going to say or how she was going to say it. “is that... why... that night, when we danced at that dinner for the English. Or, or just a few minutes ago, for that matter. When we... well.” She let out a small, embarrassed laugh and smoothed a strand of her hair back. Needlessly, because it fell right back on her forehead. “You... you know. Well, I... I simply felt like... I felt as though…” She looked down and just then realized she was still holding his hand, so, feeling terribly self-conscious, she quickly let go of it and put both her hands on her lap. Stop being so silly, she thought. King Mongkut, who apparently hadn't noticed up to that moment either, looked at her hands, and then back at her, kind of concerned, maybe. His eyes were gleaming. Maybe it was the exhaustion of practically dying and coming back to life in less than an hour, Anna thought. She looked at him. He seemed so wise. And regal. Just like a King should be. And yet he knew so little. Strange how a person can be considered wise and omnipotent by an entire nation when really that person might have more doubts than anyone else in the first place. Before she could notice, he had taken her hands in his. Her heart started thumping again. His big, strong hands with which he must've whipped so many unfortunate, innocent people to death still felt so warm and safe, pressed against hers. He swallowed. “Anna…”   
It always made her heart pound even faster when he said her name. He pronounced it differently than anyone she knew back home. And right now his voice was deep and throaty. She could see the tiredness in his eyes. More than anything, she simply wanted to let him know that everything was alright. Or at least it was going to be. He slowly cupped her face with his trembling hands, first one side, then the other. A gesture Anna was certain he had never done in his entire life. “You truly are very...” she could see his eyes move from her lips to her eyes to every part of her face as he spoke. “difficult... woman.” She felt— were those tears in her eyes? Anna let out a deep breath, smiled a little. She loved him. She put her hands on his, shaking, and closed her eyes. She did. She loved him. They slowly moved in closer to each other, and she put her hand on the back of his head, the both of them still trembling. And there they were again. Kissing. Anna didn't know what would happen once they parted, neither did she care. She felt as though she could conquer anything and anyone with him by her side. And for that moment everything that made their love impossible dissolved into air. Nothing mattered anymore. It was just her and him. If not forever, at least for that moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> KING MONGKUT[Mushu voice]: I'M ALIIIIIIIVEEE!!!


End file.
